


Sharp Dressed Mech

by tarnishedpeonies



Series: Will Write Trailbreaker For Free [7]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dancing, Formal event, Gen, Trying Not to Be an Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarnishedpeonies/pseuds/tarnishedpeonies
Summary: Prowl has identified Trailbreaker as the most readily available, least offensive Autobot representative for a formal dinner invitation.[Trailbreaker Week Day 5: Bow Tie]
Series: Will Write Trailbreaker For Free [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164989
Kudos: 18
Collections: Trailbreaker Week 2021





	1. Chapter 1

Staring at the invitation, which was large as a human and too small for a Cybertronian to read easily, Trailbreaker noticed the first issue. “This is addressed to Jazz,” he pointed out to Prowl, who had handed him the invitation and ordered he attend. “I mean, we all joke about the humans not being able to tell us apart, but I think they might notice the difference between,” Breaker motioned at himself, “and a Porsche. What about Bumblebee? People seem to like him.”

“No, he’s attending another function with Optimus. You’ve got the best temperament for this, and are the least likely to offend anyone. That’s why I’ve selected you.” Prowl didn’t leave room for argument, but Trailbreaker couldn’t help giving him a look.

“It says _and a guest_. Do you have someone picked out for that?” Breaker felt snippier than usual. That might have something to do with having this order being dropped in his lap literally one Earth week before the event; if Prowl wanted him attend on behalf of the Autobots, he would have to deal with it

“No,” Prowl frowned. “I suppose you could pick anyone you want as long as they can follow the protocols.”

“Right,” Trailbreaker hummed. “Where’s the protocol list?” Prowl handed that to him next and Breaker took a look. “I guess this must be standard for er - _white tie formal_ here,” he shrugged, looking it over. Nothing seemed embarrassing or impolite, though he assumed that was the point. They were gathering a number of people ranging in background and personality. It was safest to make sure everyone knew the rules first. “I think I know just the person.”

Nodding, Prowl reset his vocalizer. “Good. Wheeljack will help you with the dress code.”

“ _What?_ You can’t be seriou-,” Breaker stopped short when Prowl’s look hardened. “I know, I know, in the past four million years I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you tell a joke on purpose,” he buttoned up the line of thought before Prowl pressed into the statement. “But does he know what he’s doing?”

Prowl’s door wings twitched lightly, which Trailbreaker did not know how to interpret. “My understanding is he’s partnered with a well-known designer to make sure he does this correctly. Since a full suit would be prohibitively expensive, we’ve negotiated down to a collar and tie. It should be easy enough, though whoever you choose as your - companion,” Prowl quirked a wing, “will have to help you apply it prior to the event.”

Trailbreaker nodded. “Yeah I think that’ll work out. Okay, I guess I’m on board. I’ll go see Wheeljack about this collar and tie, and uh - I’ll do my best not to embarrass the Autobots at this function,” he shrugged, unable to say more.

“Excellent. I’ll call to confirm your RSVP.” Breaker had no idea what that acronym meant, but he smiled until Prowl was around the corner.

“Primus,” he mumbled to himself, heading to the comms station to use the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re lucky this tie is snap-on,” Madison laughed as she pulled the pieces over each other. “Okay, now reach up - good, and - my hands are clear.” Trailbreaker pinched and heard the simple mechanism snap into place. The collar and bow-tie felt strange on him, but it was required. Madison on the other hand, wore a garment that looked nothing like what Trailbreaker usually saw her in.

It was sleek and sequined, and it matched him. Black and red, with some grey accessories, and an embarrassingly familiar bright red lipstick. He smiled as he helped Madison back down to the lawn. “All right. I guess we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.” Trailbreaker kept his pace slow as they approached the outdoor seating, cleverly set up so that everyone but Breaker would be on an elevated platform; he could see his spot from here, denoted by the amount of space left around it. Somewhere next to him should be Madison’s spot.

They checked in and Madison was escorted to her seat, with Trailbreaker following around the outside of the platform to sit at his own spot. There was a card at his setting, and though he couldn’t read it, he assumed it had his name on it. “It’s kind of like sitting at a table for ants, huh,” Madison leaned back in her chair comfortably, glancing up at Trailbreaker. “Or maybe more like mice.”

“Don’t say that it’ll give me inappropriate mental images,” he laughed. “But it is very small,” he agreed, wondering how they would be able to serve him. Prowl insisted they were well supplied with energon, but would the cubes be big enough for him to handle? “What’s this card say, anyways?”

Madison reached to pick it up and show him, though it didn’t make it any more readable. “It’s your name,” she grinned. “And they spelled it right.”

So they had known who he was. It didn’t say _Jazz_ , which had been a concern when Trailbreaker realized there’d be arranged seating. They knew who he was, and he was seen. “That’s neat,” he admitted. “Though amusing they’d send us an invitation big enough for me to read, and have the name card at normal size.”

Putting it back down, Madison reached to read hers. “Well it isn’t for _you_ ,” she pointed out, “although if anyone thinks I’m going to just leave these here and not take them as mementos they’re wrong,” she chuckled. “It’s for the employees, so they can seat you right and the servers bring you the right meal. It’d be embarrassing if they mixed either of the two up,” she pointed out. “It’s a state dinner. They don’t make those kinds of mistakes. They’ve been doing this for centuries.”

Trailbreaker’s optics widened behind his visor. “ _Centuries_?” He imagined the servers and other workers as children in old fashioned clothes, trying to seat people and put down their plating. That wasn’t right, he knew, but it was a difficult mental image to get rid of as he shook his helmet. “Not these _exact_ people though, right?” Madison’s laughter made him feel better instead of worse.

“No! Of course, not. I mean the state dinner as a whole. Wow, that would be kind of funny though if it was the same people since the White House started holding these. They’d be like - vampires or something,” she said quieter, so they weren’t overheard as someone passed by with another couple to seat. “It is an honor though, Trailbreaker. Most humans don’t get to attend something like this once in their lifetimes, so no matter how counter-intuitive it might seem, just relax.”

Relax, sure. Relax, and keep all the protocols in mind. Actually, that part had been much easier to remember. It approximated how Trailbreaker acted every day: he kept to himself and didn’t bother anyone unless he needed something. He’d just keep quiet until someone spoke to him, and the issue would resolve itself. He and Madison followed protocol through the seating of honored guests, the arrival of the hosts, for speeches and toasts.

As dishes were delivered and taken away (he was amused by the shot glass sized cubes), Madison helped temper conversations with Trailbreaker and helped him pick up cues on what to say. Sometimes what not to say. Breaker felt grateful that he’d picked the right person as his guest as they navigated niceties and etiquette together. The band started playing, and Trailbreaker felt himself freeze.

“Madison?” He looked back at the dance floor that had been spread out on the lawn, which looked perfectly serviceable for a human, not so much a Cybertronian. “They’re not expecting me to dance, right?” Looking back to his dinner companion, Trailbreaker worried.

Glancing at some of the other guests as they excused themselves from the table to head that direction, Madison looked back up at Trailbreaker. “I mean you should try, just to be polite. No one says you have to be _good_ at it,” she grinned up at him. “Besides, why did I get all fancy if we weren’t going to dance? Think of it like this: you’re James Bond in your fancy bow tie, and now you have to dance so you don’t blow your cover.”

Trailbreaker looked back at the dance floor where some of the couples had already made it, and were starting to dance. It was relatively uniform, and Breaker observed the steps while he processed a thought. Looking back at Madison, he grinned and performed a waist-up bow from his seated position, offering her a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Standing from her chair, Madison bowed back. “Of _course_ ,” she laughed and stepped into Breaker’s hand. “Although I don’t know all the steps. Think we can fake it for a few notes?”

“I think we’ll manage,” Trailbreaker agreed, standing slowly to the side of the dance floor, a part of the mix without damaging the surface. It felt silly and clever when Breaker put two fingers on his palm by Madison, imitating the steps as they flexed and moved. Madison got the idea and took hold of them, following the steps herself as Breaker started following the steps himself. It was much easier to make his fingers follow suit when his pedes moved the same way, and they were both laughing by the end of the first song.

Someone tapped on his foot, and Trailbreaker moved his arms to peer down at another well-dressed woman, waiting with a grin. “You make it pretty difficult to cut in, but I was hoping for a dance?” Breaker froze for a moment, unsure what to say.

“Ooh, you’re going to have tired pedes by the time the night is through,” Madison winked. “Go on, put me down and pick her up! I’ll find someone else to dance with,” she laughed, “though I can’t promise not to step on their toes.” Trailbreaker didn’t recall that being against dinner protocols, and his mood lifted as he followed her advice with a soft laugh.

The women exchanged positions, and Breaker lifted the other woman up to his level. “I’m Trailbreaker,” he announced, then bowed without spilling his new partner, before offering her the same two digits. “And I would love to dance.”


End file.
